


Kumquats & Plums

by CBFirestarter



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, During Canon, Episode: s03e05 A Life in the Day, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kumquats - Freeform, M/M, Mosaic, Peaches & Plums, Teasing, proof in concept
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 01:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17888795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBFirestarter/pseuds/CBFirestarter
Summary: Quentin's quiet night in the cabin is about to get a little more interesting.





	Kumquats & Plums

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of Eliot... "Love Wins"  
> Hope you all enjoy <3

“I told you not to eat that kumquat,” Quentin scolds, glancing up at Eliot who chuckles, a smirk on his face. “Come on, really? That makes you laugh? How old are you?” He listens as Eliot's laugh bubbles up.

“I’m sorry, come on, who names a fruit that?” Eliot walks behind him, trailing fingertips along the line of his shoulders before flopping down in the chair next to him. Eliot swings one of his long legs over the arm of the chair and tips his head back, letting out a long sigh. Quentin can’t help but admire the long line of his neck leading down the sharp curve of his collarbone, just under his open shirt. The light from the fire casts shadows on Eliot's fine features and Quentin self-consciously ducks his head, letting his hair shield his face.

"It was too sweet though. I prefer plums," Eliot remarks, dancing his long fingers across the table, inching towards the bowl of said fruit in the center of the table.

Quentin lifts his head and levels a small glare at his companion. "We both agreed one piece of fruit a night so we don't run out. You made your choice, now leave those plums alone."

"You need to loosen up, Que. Just one plum won't hurt anyone." His heart races a bit at the playful tone in Eliot's voice. The impending challenge Que knows he will lose. That doesn't mean he can't put up a good fight though, does it?

"El, leave it," he warns one last time, keeping his head down on his mosaic notes but watching the slowly moving hand through his fallen hair.

Eliot makes his move grasping for the plum and leaping up from the chair, his tall frame towering over Que. He doesn't miss a beat, tossing down the paper and lunging up to grab the plum from his hand. Eliot laughs and holds the plum so high it nearly touches the cottage’s beams. Que furrows his brow and pulls hard on the raised arm with one hand, using the other to hold Eliot's hips pressed against him.

"It’s just one plum!" Eliot protests as the two grapple for it and Que uses all his strength to push Eliot back a few feet. Triumph on his small victory brings a smile to his face. It doesn't last long as Eliot spins him around and they go toppling backwards onto the straw bed. Eliot straddles his hips, firm thighs squeezing tightly as he places a hand on his chest to hold him down.

"El, get off me!" he grumbles. Eliot smiles and winks before bringing the plum to his face, closing his eyes and drawing in a long breath through his nose.

"Mmmm, smells ripe to me," Eliot practically purrs and Quentin blushes at the growing erection in his cotton trousers.

"Don't you dare," he fixes Eliot with a glare that goes ignored as Eliot slowly opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into the dark, sweet fruit. Small juices run down the sides of his face and Eliot makes an all too erotic sound as he closes his eyes tipping his head back.

"You eating fruit or starring in a porno?" Quentin can't help but scold and Eliot laughs out loud  looking down at him. One of Eliot's long graceful fingers moves to brush the hair out of Que’s eyes and he squirms a bit, feeling exposed. The look in Eliot's eyes changes though as he stares down at him, softening, and Quentin can't help but stare back with a mirrored look of vulnerability. They are all they have.

Eliot leans down, slowly taking one hand to cup Quentin's face, a thumb brushing over his cheek bone and sweet plum flavored lips meet his own. He tastes the sweet fruit and soft press of lips and lets a tiny needy moan escape him. Quentin is momentarily overwhelmed by the scent and feel of the man above him, a heady mix of fruit, jasmine oils and something that is just all... El.

"I'm sorry about the plum," Eliot whispers against his lips and its Quentin's turn to laugh.

"No, you're not," he grins as Eliot pulls up a bit and pouts a second before shrugging.

"No, I'm not." He lowers his mouth to just below Quentin's ear and begins to lick and tease. 

Quentin tips his head back, allowing El access to his neck and lets his eyes fall shut, feeling the brush of lips and firm grip of a hand on his jaw. Eliot always has a way of making him feel worshiped and devoured all at once, like no one else has. With El he can just let go, because there's nothing to hide with him. Eliot read Quentin like a book, cover to cover the first time they met and he doesn't think he could hide anything from him if he tried.

When he feels the hard press of Eliot's erection against his own, an embarrassingly needy gasp escapes his lips, and he feels Eliot chuckle against his skin as he grinds down against him. "You want something, Que?" Eliot teases, nipping at his ear and sending a shiver through him.

“Yeah… my plum back,” he smiles as he feels Eliot’s laugh tickle against his skin.

“Well then,” he sits up a bit, grabbing the plum and holding it to Que’s lips. Quentin looks up at Eliot, keeping eye contact as he slowly pulls in a bite of sweet plum, teasing the tip of his tongue over Eliot’s fingers. He feels the way El’s body tenses on top of him and feels the growing intoxication between them.

He leans up on his elbows a bit and licks the juices off his skin again till Eliot drops the fucking fruit and delves three fingers into his mouth. He can’t help the moan he lets out as he sucks on the fingers, rubbing his tongue against them. “Oh fuck, Que, your fucking mouth,” Eliot sighs thrusting his finger in and out of his mouth slowly now, eyes fixed on them.

The rush of pride that fills his chest is almost embarrassing but he never feels this, this, well… sexy. Always the awkward, depressed super nerd, but with El he doesn’t feel like that. He feels beautiful and hot and he really wants to get his lips around that gorgeous cock. He’s fairly certain that Eliot won’t argue with this new course of action.

He slides out from under him and, fisting a hand in his shirt, drags him down onto the bed, flipping them so he’s lying on top of him. “Fiesty,” Eliot laughs thrusting his hips up a little and they both groan then as their erections brush together.

Quentin slides slowly down the bed, letting his hands trail their way down the gorgeous torso before him. They don’t stop till they reach the top of his pants, giving a gentle tug and lift he frees the erection in question. Eliot’s already hard and a little bead of precome sits at the tip. “Salty sweet?” Quentin muses before licking over the head of his cock just lick he did his fingers.

“Q-Que… I, oh fuck,” Eliot slams his head back against the pillow as Quentin chooses that moment to suck down half of his cock. He swirls his tongue just under the head and keeps his hands firm on Eliot’s perfect hips to hold him still. He loves the heavy weight of a cock in his mouth, and okay, maybe he’s been told he has an oral fixation problem in the past but maybe the solution was simply getting this cock in his mouth. Judging by the sounds Eliot is now making, he would probably agree and tell his old doctors to go fuck themselves.

He feels fingers sinking into his hair, running over his scalp and he hums cause fuck it just feels so good, so loving. He sucks harder and takes him deeper the taste of skin and sweat and plum and that oil Eliot loves so much all mixing together. Eliot’s hips rock up into his mouth and he mirrors him then pressing his erection into the mattress under him and practically humps the quilt. He feels like some horny, needy animal.

“Que, I’m gonna…” Eliot trails off and he feels it before he tastes it as the cock in his mouth is suddenly coming. The hands in his hair grip just this side of painful pleasure, and fuck if he doesn’t just swallow down everything Eliot gives him. Sucking and licking till the last little bit is eked out of him.

He pulls off with a pop and looks up at the totally fucked out smiling expression on Eliot's face. 

Its beautiful.

He’s beautiful.

“Mine,” he whispers then, placing a kiss to the soft skin of his softening cock before tucking it back in.

Eliot’s looking at him now and he feels the flush on his cheeks grow and the throb of his still very hard cock. “Yours, Que,” Eliot whispers, holding out his arms. He crawls up the bed, sliding into the perfect little spoon position. He really does love being the little spoon, and how perfectly Eliot’s long limbs curl in around him. Fingers slick with oil slink into his pants and grasp him, finally, finally starting a growing rhythm. He rocks in the tight embrace, eyes closed and shivers at the mouth just below his ear sucking and biting and marking him up. He feels like he’s being consumed just like the plum and he wants to give Eliot all of himself, everything, even the fucked up parts, cause he thinks maybe he will take better care of himself than he ever did.

“El, need, fuck El, El, El, El,” he pants and can’t stop the soft name from coming to his lips.

“Come on, Que, give it up for me,” Eliot whispers in a hot, heady tone and it undoes him and he’s coming hard, fingers sliding through the mess on his over-sensitized skin. He gasps in air as the aftershocks rock through him and still. Eliot pulls his hand out behind him and then lets out a little moan, and is he sucking on his come soaked fingers?

He turns his head to see as Eliot’s eyes roll back in his head as he licks up the stick mess off each single digit. It may be one of the hottest things he’s ever seen but then again he thinks that about everything Eliot does in bed. Eliot finishes and curls back up around him, chin resting on his shoulder. They lie still like that together in the low flickering light.

“I love you, El,” and he didn’t even mean to say it but he means it with every fiber of his being.

“Love you too,” he whispers back in that softer voice. It's a voice he only ever heard Eliot use before with Margo and it makes his heart soar.

He spots the abandoned plum in the quilt and grabs it up to take a juicy bite, the sweet taste flooding his mouth again. He holds it up and Eliot takes it, finishing off the last few bites. “I get some of your peach tomorrow,” he mumbles.

“We’ll see about that,” Eliot laughs and he loves that sound.

“I’m glad its you,” he says, “if I had to be stuck here, I’m glad it’s with you. Even if you are a fruit thief.”

“I’m your fruit thief,” he presses a kiss just below his ear and Quentin marvels at just how lucky he is.


End file.
